


Construction of Self

by testedcyberneticz



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff and Angst, I just think they should be friends lol, learning experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28513143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/testedcyberneticz/pseuds/testedcyberneticz
Summary: Defensor needs help staying together. Devastator knows how to help.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	Construction of Self

Combination was always something that most could never understand. Describing it as the combination of both the mind and body was grossly simplified, not to mention the effects of it before, during, and after. If you weren't a combiner, you would never even come close to understanding such an experience. It was freeing, an entire breath of air sucked into a small tube and crushed, locking it away and swallowing the key. It was wonderful in every way like a sun bursting into bits, each part shattering into itself. 

Sometimes others understand it better. Sometimes others understood it worse. There were bursts of pure, unfiltered rage, shaking through a body like a scared ghost. There were movements that had strings attached to every joint, but not every limb. There were thoughts with strikes of energon spilling from them into puddles of understanding. Words that ran into crowded traffic just as the light turned red. Some people would say it was a miracle of science.

Devastator would hardly agree. Each limb almost buckled as he, they, no one, grabbed an arm, to which it shifted to a hand. Some combiners worked better than others. He knew that well. The feeling of waiting for agreement from his right leg was familiar, and had moved slightly. He felt the frown stick to his face like gum, then deepen. He didn't like the way he was being looked at.

The expression on Defensor's face was exceedingly gentle. Too gentle, really. It was familiar and sickeningly sweet. Each movement was much too gentle, as if nothing wrestled for control, as if there was no control. A lack of control with a lack of resistance. Joints craned and fingers stalled. 

"What does Devastator think?" Asked Defensor, face and body as gentle as a flower and as rough as sand. He pointed to the sky, the colors that were almost similar to cotton candy painted across it like it was on a canvas. Devastator let a loud vent of made up air leave him, mimicking humans sighing in the best way possible to send a message to Defensor. Defensor didn't get the message at all as he waggled his finger at the sky excitedly. 

"Devastator doesn't-" He quickly stopped himself mid-grounding, remembering why he was out here, "Devastator thinks it's okay." 

Defensor's face glowed with joy, "Yes." It was said awkwardly, like he didn't know what to say. 

"Defensor getting better at staying together." he commented after some silence passed, however long that was. 

"Blades being-" Defensor grit his teeth together, and before actually being able to make any words, instead coughed out a gross, grating indiscernible sound. It was like several gears colliding and meshing together, only for one gear to be much too big, causing cracks in the metal. 

And with that, Defensor fell apart, all five Protectobots fell unto the ground in a heap of arguments. 

"I'm not _being_ ," Blades jumped up, yelled, and did the action of finger quotes, "Anything!" The helicopter pointed to himself, anger radiating off of him like a nuclear bomb, "It's not my fault that we can't stay together!" 

First Aid quickly launched himself off the ground, hands in the air as he explained, "I was trying to say that you felt weird! Like- I don't know, just weird! I didn't know how to _explain_ it!" He quickly corrected worriedly, his visor managing to show anxiety, then exhaustion. 

Blades huffed and crossed his arms in response, clearly trying to hide guilt and failing at it, "What does that even mean?" 

"I don't- _know_." First Aid put his face in his hands, which allowed Hot Spot time to walk up to him and put his hand on his shoulder in the most gentle manner possible. 

"It was better than last time, at least," Hot Spot pumped his fist in the air slightly while the other found it's favorite spot to be First Aid's shoulder, "And we'll improve over time! And we'll figure out what the weird thing was." 

"I guess..." Said First Aid in an exhausted voice. Groove, meanwhile, had decided to lay on the ground and not get up as Streetwise had awkwardly watched the whole conversation, doing small bounces in place here and there. 

"Are you gonna get up or...?" Streetwise asked.

"Mm. No. I'm gonna wait for this to play out." Groove shrugged. 

Devastator leaned downward, hands on his own knees as he towered over the Protectobots. They were absolutely tiny down there, like the world's strangest scraplets. Small and helpless, and easy to crush with just one or two movements, completely caught off guard- 

No. He would not continue that thought process. He needs to hold back. Define himself. He is Devastator. He is not Scrapper. He is not Bonecrusher. He is not Hook. He is not Long Haul. He is not Mixmaster. He is not Scavenger. He is Devastator. His name is Devastator. He is not a weapon. He is someone named Devastator. He is Devastator. 

"Defensor felt weird?" He decided to address. 

"I don't know, it wasn't the full person it was more just Blades-" 

He quickly interrupted First Aid, "No. _Defensor_. What part of Defensor felt weird?" 

"Erm," First Aid paused awkwardly, "His right arm." All of the Protectobots looked at him expectedly, as if he could solve all their issues in a spark pulse.

Unfortunately, he didn't know how to convey what needed to be said, "Self." It was the only part all of him would agree on.

Fortunately for him and everyone else, First Aid was smart, "My right arm?" Defensor gave a curt nod and let his frown lessen. It could never truly leave, as it was hard to agree on a smile, but it was at least easy to agree on lessening a frown. 

"Weird." Streetwise commented with a nervous laugh. 

"Defensor combine now." Devastator ordered bluntly as he moved to full stand. The rest looked caught off guard for only a moment.

Then, there was the sound of transformation, joints and servos colliding and mixing into something else entirely. It was wonderful and horrific, the body changing into what most would feel pain upon doing. Each limb fit upon each other like it was made to be there, as if they always were this newly formed person that had always existed. It was the effort of a glued together star, shining bright enough for some and too bright for most. It excelled in every way to the point of almost blinding pain. 

"Ugh." Defensor let out once combined while putting his hands on his head. Devastator waited for Defensor to say something else, reasoning with the part of him that was yelling at him to punch something in the face. 

Defensor noticed the way Devastator frowned in some kind of anger, his mouth a small, thin curve that angled downward to his chin. His expression was like when Hook felt disappointed in himself because he hadn't been perfect on something he worked on. It was an oddly crude reminder. 

"Bl- _Defensor's_ arm still feels weird." He seemed to enforce this by moving said arm around, waggling it around like Ravage with a toy. Devastator cusped his hand into his chin. 

"Defensor's arm is resisting." He reasoned.

"Blades isn't resisting!" Defensor barked out suddenly, his entire expression and body language shifting at the same speed of flickers of flying sparks. 

" _Defensor_. De-fen-sor." He corrected while almost gritting his teeth. Defensor's expression instantly became guilty, as for a second he threatened to fall apart, but stuck back together once again. 

His voice was soft and nearly helpless, "Defensor is... Defensor is not resisting. Defensor promises." He looked away and curled his hands together, his frown growing and letting gritted, upset teeth show, "How does Devastator stay combined?" 

Devastator felt parts of himself shift at that, and he very suddenly sat on the ground. Defensor looked nervous, then sat as well. Silence passed for some time. Specifically, because he thought. He thought about every moment spent as Devastator, moments before Devastator, and moments after. They clicked together and formed a film line of memory, his own movie that he would never watch. 

"One time," He started, "Devastator's right arm was hurt. Devastator's arm was hurt when he was not Devastator. He was dying." He let his words sink in.

Defensor leaned forward, knees under him, crossed, and hands offering support from the ground. His face was creased with worry. 

"Devastator's right leg and head came up with an idea. There were no resources to help Devastator's arm. Devastator's head looked at the wounds and realized there was only one way to seal them. Devastator's arm couldn't move. We- _Devastator_ made Devastator's arm combine anyways." He moved his right arm slightly as he spoke. 

Defensor had a hand over his mouth, worry on his face as if it had been cut into it with a rusty knife. He understood that well, hearing about that while combined probably didn't make anyone feel good. But telling this was definitely important, as every part of Defensor must be completely immersed into the story if he hadn't broken apart yet. 

"Devastator's limbs becoming Devastator worked. Devastator's arm stopped dying, but if Devastator stopped existing, arm would die. Devastator's limbs didn't know if they could force Devastator's arm to combine again," He remembered every emotion he felt on that day clearly, every emotion they felt that was his, "Devastator couldn't move because of issues with the area. Devastator stayed combined for a long time. Devastator did not sleep. If Devastator fell apart, arm would die. So Devastator waited. Devastator didn't know when we would be found." 

"Did Devastator's arm survive?" Asked Defensor gingerly, quietly, as if his own world had just been shattered. 

"Devastator's arm is still here. Forever." He smiled, everyone agreeing for once, raising his right arm and flexing the hand slightly. Relief flooded through him, as well as confidence. Devastator wouldn't let anyone be lost from the team, never in a million years and more. 

"That's good." Defensor smiled, then it dropped, "Devastator is telling Defensor that Defensor has to be in life or death situation?" 

"If Defensor wants." 

"Defensor would rather save people." 

The sky was beginning to get darker, blue crying into the sky and becoming a dark blue, as if black paint had been mixed in. Stars showed themselves in an odd way of showing off, impatient for more to come. Defensor stared up at the sky, so Devastator did too. 

"Defensor wishes Devastator could save people with Defensor."


End file.
